African Inscribed

  Why are you this way? What is absolutely wrong? You crave for kindness and attention so bad and when you are lovingly shown, you hurry back into The Cave.  Deep meditations and contemplations against why you never stop running from commitments, why actions involving isolating yourself from everyone keeps rearing its head and why 'change' isn't viral in the little emotions left in you, continuously arises. You return into what you once were like the Prodigal son, in this case, daughter. Sad. Cold. Bitter. Empty. Blaming. Selfpitituous. Lost. I understand all that you've seen and being through ... Even those traumatic incidents that ne'er stops resurfacing in packages tagged as 'Nightmare'. You actually confide in no-one (even when you did, you only let out bits in long paragraphs to those who ever cared to know). You never sleep early. You stay up late all nights to clear the head that never cleared. Thinking, writhing in pains, crying. And when you eventua...

  "Take me! Take all of me inside youu. Purge life out of this body. Seize my spirit, bottle my soul, burn it! Strip me of my skin", she moaned softly with pleasure while he kissed her in an uncultured manner, his big hands around her waist. The people roundabout them were about two dozens. Beautiful people. They had on black tailored suits; the men. And the women, sombre dresses. "Freue mich sehr für meine Tochter …" (really glad for my daughter), Cranoai's Mom, Thora, broke the tense silence in the room and everyone turned to pass a stern frown, index finger fixed tight on their lips. She pouted. "Deaaaaaar … from the deepest bottom of this dark heart”, thumps chest, “I give my life unto you this day", she repeated after the hooded Clergyman standing in the circle with them. He was clothed in a huge black cape.  "I submit my dãmned soul to you, my sturdy bones and blo. ody flesh", he uttered turning a page from an ancient book stretched abo...

  “WHEN THE DEVIL REMINDS YOU OF YOUR SIN, YOU REMIND HIM OF CHRIST'S CRUCIFIXION and RESURRECTION!”, Reverend Tom of New Haven Parish screamed, the modern microphone attached from his ear until over his lips amplifying his voice across the large hall. Men, women and little children yelled from their pews with hopeful agreement. Everyone seated here in comfort had their best smiles pasted on, even possessed the right energy for every activity; to dance, clap, shout, sing, pray—It was almost as if everything in their lives were in place—and lock hands in strangers' with love . . . Was it real? If Love were in true existence, could I be the only individual seated amongst this sea of happy people in lack? Being in the House of God—like the red bricked housing was called—didn't allow the emotions I believed everyone felt when in His Presence. I heard of unsettling peace, indescribable joy and happiness, but here I sat; stiff, very lost and empty. “Have faith, Bernice”, that ...

  I absolutely lost how to react when I beheld her eyes; two calculative organs draped in enchantment potions. With outstretched arms, she called for me. She yearned for my warmth, I knew. Her body beckoned unto me, her lips craved my indulgence. Except the panties, she was completely bare.  She rested the tips of her fingers over her bosom, smiling slyly and her moves were f*ck.ing effective. I found myself standing before shredded pieces of my clothes within seconds. I grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her into a sitting position and separated her knees, she moaned.  Not the regular moans. This kind sent shivers o'er my fleshes and bones. It erected and made me mad. I suddenly had no control. I plunged deep in and out in rough movements, groaning and gritting my teeth.  As much as she was enjoyable, she was too tight. Cummed in her the sixth time before surrendering. I froze. The bedspread and mattress were soaked deep in red—from pelvis to the end of my hood w...

  “Pain? Pain?” Rears his head from beneath the piles of cloth stuffed in a basket “I wanna keep hiding, Ma! I don't want the others to find me” “Come on, Pain. Be a sport, you should be self-confident. Allow nobody to suppress you. You're our King now.” He cries “I don't want to be King!! I never wanted to beeee!” Sobs “But . . . But your father is gone. Pain, he won't be home anytime soon until his resurrection. My dear husband, Depression, is gone, son.” Shaking his head “But they always want me that way. She, especially. It fuels her ego and emotional strength.” He was considerate, his mother, Anxiety, sadly thought. “But you know what's gonna happen if she doesn't express you along with your sister?” He pulls a shirt and more over until he's no longer visible “Less connection with people, emotional problems. . . You?” “She'd simply explode. So, my dear. Please allow yourself in with the others although she's using an enemy to fight and put out o...

  He was seven and well above his mother's claws, he used to think. Left the house whenever he liked and returned however he wanted. When news from the headquarters of a farm his mother works at got leaked, she knew her family was in danger. Few months ago, the terrorist attacks downtown had caused public unrest, a lot of lives had been wasted so immediately day broke, she prepared the kids and within some minutes, they were ready but her oldest son was out. They waited long hours for his return but he didn't. She took the rest of her kids to The Safe Place in the next town then hurried back home before sunset for him. He was home a minute before midnight looking rough and smelling dirty.  “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?”, she yelled and he cackled, walking to his room, “You know you're wasting your time asking”  “Whatever. We are leaving this place. The Landlords of these shelters in the neighborhood are terrorists. I never knew until yesterday”, she sighed, “Upon the rent we paid...

  "Soo . . . how would you like to die?," One of the Coroners requested and the rest of his colleagues paused what they had been about doing, staring at him with special eyes. "I favour my loss of life private. Like a small get-together; without hassles and too many people, I mean . . . I'd like to die in a place no one would discover it handy to understand--"  "Just like this scene and case, right?" The tall man dressed in hospital-green overalls; The Coroner, asked.  Ignoring, I continued, "I favour my loss of life to be an eye opener to all people who saw me as immortal, proud and stupid . . . maybe they'll be at ease ample or feel a tiny bit of remorse/regret on their part that whom they disliked and who was once in charge of triggering their without difficulty aggravated being, was sooner or later away from giving them the 'barf urge' forever. When I die, I favour those who would fake 'care and concern' to drop dead too. I...

  Her mother stared at me like I was dying, like the stilts holding the world in order were soon to snap and crush me over and I hated it. I saw her look at my elder brother the same way six months ago, the next day, he was no more. We never saw him again, not even a part of his body. ************** I was in the yard one evening when news of a rapidly spreading virus was uttered in hushed tones by neighbours—the landlady and her children. From the intensity of their voices, I sensed panic but I didn't mind then. I believed it was a temporary situation and the government could easily take care of it. The lockdown began on the 30th of March 2020. It was way cool at first; you get to be indoors, no stressing over deadlines and meetings, eat, sleep and wake any time you wanted. After three months, coping became impossible. Savings were thinning/exhausted, cost of feeding had increased, and a rigid curfew was installed. The hunger was real. Homes, companies and stores were burgled ever...